


Doors Wide Open

by Probably_Not_Batman



Series: A House Is Not A Home [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Will add tags as I go, bipolar character, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Not_Batman/pseuds/Probably_Not_Batman
Summary: A series of drabbles and side chapters for the 'A House is not a Home' AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! If you have any questions or requests, please leave them in the comments! Just be aware that if a prompt has something tied into the main plot, I may put off writing it until that plot point has passed!
> 
> This takes place between chapters 29 and 30 of Plain White Walls and is the conversation between Cronus and Sollux.

Sollux was pretty sure he’d never been this angry in his life.

That was probably exaggerating, but in the moment, it was true. That’s how it always was with him. Anger was in the moment, reactions snapping from him without thought and leaving him to deal with the consequences. Karkat had a similar problem, but he was almost always angry so his spikes were easy enough to let slide.

His eyes were narrowed behind his glasses as he stared out of the window, his arms tight across his chest. The sound of a car door falling shut finally made him jump, glancing over at the driver.

Eridan had told him Cronus took after their father, while he looked more like their mother. It was easy to believe, as the elder Ampora’s olive toned skin and black hair bore no resemblance to Eridan’s  ginger curls and freckles. If he hadn’t been told they were related, he never would have guessed it.

Sollux’s grip on his own arm tightened as he remembered the way Eridan’s face had crumpled before he’d hidden it in his hands, green eyes watery and his hands shaking. It wasn’t the first time Sollux had made him cry, but every time was a punch to the gut. The first time had been bad enough, back when he didn’t know Eridan as anything more than an irritating new kid.

“Ith he athleep?” he heard himself ask, not looking at Cronus. Last time he’d made Eridan cry, Cronus had thrown him out of the house and while he was pretty sure the other wouldn’t throw him out of a moving vehicle he wasn’t certain.

“Close enough,” Cronus said, putting a cigarette between his teeth and rolling his eyes at the face Sollux made. “No thanks to you.”

“He’th the one who maketh thingth tho fucking difficult,” Sollux hissed, leaning against the door and staring at the line of the sidewalk trailing past as they drove. “Why can’t he jutht _tell_ people when thomethingth wrong? You could’ve made him thtay home, didn’t you notithe he wathn’t okay?” His voice was getting louder, which probably wasn’t his brightest idea, but he never did the smartest things when he was mad. Last time he’d punched Equius, this time he yelled at his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother.

“Of course I did,” Cronus snapped. “You coulda said somethin too.”

“You’re hith guardian!”

“I’m his brother! He doesn’t listen to me and when he digs his heels in there’s no way in hell of gettin him to change his mind.”

Sollux glared at him. “Maybe if he actually had thomeone give a shit before now-“

“I gave a shit!”

“But were you even there?”

Sollux wheezed as the seatbelt tightened across his chest, the car braking suddenly. Cronus’s knuckles were white on the wheel and he was shaking. The Captor’s anger sputtered and threatened to go out as he realized he may have crossed a line.

“Um…I-“

A quiet voice cut him off. “Did he say somethin?”

“I don’t-“

“Did he _say I wasn’t there?_ ”

Sollux’s rage finally burnt out as he heard the other’s voice crack.

“…he won’t talk about home much. Jutht bathicth, I gueth. He lived with your dad, he wath homethchooled,” he could still feel irritation sparking in his chest as he thought about it, but now wasn’t the time. “You moved out and vithited thometimeth and now he liveth here. But I’m not thtupid. Half the time he won’t eat unleth KK or I go with him, and he flincheth every time thomeone tho much ath frownth in hith direction.”

Cronus pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit his cigarette, taking a shaky drag. “…I know. And you’re right, Captor. I wasn’t there. I thought he’d be okay, even if bein okay was just bein left alone.” He stared at the smoldering end of the cigarette, eyes tight. “So I fucked up and I left and Eridan got worse. But I’m here now and I’m trying to fix it.” His voice still shook, but his hands weren’t trembling and he started driving once more. “…I’m still not sure how to do that, but… I don’t think getting mad at him is going to help.”

Sollux grimaced. “You think I don’t know that? I’m not mad _at_ him. I’m _mad_ because of all the shit he treatth like it’th normal! Like not eating or telling anyone when he’th thick or-“ he cuts off before he can let himself rant, barely keeping his anger from reigniting. His hands twitched and he drummed his fingers against the dashboard.

The other was quiet for a few minutes. “I know. But ya might want to let him know that.”

Sollux didn’t answer as they pulled up to his house, opening the door and stepping out. “Thankth for the ride.”

Cronus wasn’t shaking anymore, but Sollux didn’t think it was good that he was lighting up another cigarette. “No problem. Just…do me a favor.”

Sollux raised an eyebrow.

“Whenever you talk to Eri, don’t tell him I was smokin again.” He let a cloud of smoke float out the window.

“I wathn’t going to, but okay.” He closed the door and slumped into the house, avoiding any questions by making a beeline for his room and locking the door. Falling onto the bed, he rubbed his temples to try and rid himself of the migraine that was forming. How many times could he mess things up in one day? He tossed his glasses onto the bedside table and heard them bounce off and hit the floor before skidding somewhere.

With a groan and narrowed eyes, he stared at the ceiling with one thought on his mind.

Great job, Captor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave arrives at the home of Dirk and Derrik Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for my shitty update schedule but for now here's a Strider based chapter!  
> TW: mentions of child abuse and implications of violence

The sound of rain was almost loud enough to annoy Dirk over the sound of the television. A pile of metal bits was spread on the table before him, the half-formed body of something robotic sitting in his hands with wires sticking out like hairs from the frame.

On the screen in front of him, a colorful animated figure leapt across the screen with a sword far too big for her, swinging it as though it weighed nothing. Her hair fluttered behind her as Dirk’s eyes flicked between his project and the television. His fingers prodded at a joint, huffing when it moved just a little more loosely than it should. He’d have to talk to Horuss about it if they wanted it ready before the next battle. Maybe he could finally convince the other to add more blades.

A hand on his hair made him jolt internally, though he only looked up to give his brother an unamused stare over his shades. “Dude. My hair.”

Derrik grinned like the asshole he was and dug his fingers into the gelled nearly solid spikes of blonde, thoroughly ruining whatever style had been there before. The elder Strider wasn’t wearing his shades, his crimson eyes shining with mischief. Dirk frowned a little bit at the bags there. Although he wasn’t much better about the whole sleeping thing, he knew he was probably going to have to annoy Derrik into not running himself into the ground.

“So how late are you planning on tinkering with that thing? It’s almost three in the morning.”

Oh. Perfect.

“I’ll sleep soon. I’m not the one who looks like he’s about to pass out on his feet,” Dirk said carefully, completely aware of the fact that Derrik might just not sleep out of spite if he pushed the issue. Of course, he was exactly the same so it’s not like he had any room to talk.

Derrik scoffed, rubbing his hand over the bit of stubble growing on he had. “I’m fine. Just got out of a meeting. It’s almost like those fuckers forget that timezones exist.”

“Mhm,” Dirk muttered. “So, are you going back soon?”

The older man drapes himself over the couch, pouting. “What, that eager to get rid of me? Gonna have some wild college parties while I’m gone?” He nudges Dirk’s arm and smirks. “Maybe invite that Jake guy?”

Dirk felt his face warm slightly and glared at his brother, pushing him off of the back of the couch. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Derrik didn’t get up from his place on the ground, laughing under his breath. “Keep being an ass and I’ll bring back your bedtime.”

Dirk huffed at him, rolling his eyes at the others antics. “I think you’re finally losing it.”

“Real question is, did I ever have it?” He asked in a mock-serious tone, finally dragging himself to his feet. “I’m gonna take a shower. You go to sleep before the sun comes back.”

“Uh-huh,” He replied noncommittedly, focusing on his project once more. The sound of the shower coming on was barely audible over the rain and Dirk figured he’d probably be in there for at least an hour, given that long showers just seemed to be genetic for Striders.

The show on screen was belting out the opening, bright sparkles illuminated cute characters with oversized weapons in a color scheme far too pastel for the amount of violence in the show. A shark of metal bit into Dirk’s finger and he curse, dropping the machinery on the table and muttering under his breath as he shuffled to the kitchen to wash it off.

The sound could almost pass as thunder or some other noise of the storm, but something made Dirk stop. His head tilted a little and he held perfectly still for a moment until it sounded again.

A knock.

Dirk’s fists clenched, his body tensing. Who would be knocking at three in the morning, and in the middle of a storm no less?

The knock sounded for a third time, faster and almost frantic. Should he get his sword? Though he mostly had them as collectables, the katana on the wall above his bed was more than sharp enough for a real fight and he knew how to use it.

After another second on indecision, he flashstepped to his room and grabbed the blade, holding it carefully out of sight as he opened the door. Of course, when he did so he almost dropped it.

Standing on the porch, completely drenched by the downpour, was a kid. Barely a teenager, if he was one at all, he was pale and blonde, any expression on his face hidden by the shades he wore. He was holding a dufflebag and a plastic bag that looked like it was full of…papers.

“Uh…” Dirk had always considered himself a man of few words, though his friends would certainly disagree, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been rendered completely speechless.

Who the fuck was this kid?

The kid’s posture slowly got tenser with every second of silence. “Aw shit,” he mumbled finally. “Did Bro get the wrong house? Or…” he seemed to glance behind him to the dark street. “…fuck, he’s gone.”

Dirk was starting to regain his ability to form words, his thoughts still racing as a door opened in the house. He heard Derrik’s voice calling out, stepping back from the doorway to look at him.

“Dirk, what the fuck? Why the actual hell do you have the door open at-“ He stopped dead in his tracks and it suddenly occurred to Dirk that this kid looked almost exactly like a younger Derrik.

“…Dave?” he almost whispered, almost like he couldn’t believe it. The name dragged realization to Dirk’s mind, though ‘Dave’ was someone he was only aware of vaguely.

The kid tenses even more and tentatively answers,” Yeah? Who are you?”

Dirk jumped back as Derrik ran forward, not quite flashstepping, and put his hands on Dave’s shoulders.

“Are you okay? What the fuck are you doing here? Is- fuck- is Ambrose here?” He peered into the rain, his voice worried but every other part of him tense like he was ready for a fight.

“Ambrose?” Dave finally said, seeming a little overwhelmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Personal space, dude.”

Derrik grimaced. “Er…Bro, I guess.”

Dave almost seemed more focused on the name than the fact that this ‘Bro’ had dropped him off in the middle of storm to people he didn’t know. “Bro’s name is Ambrose? What the fresh fuck? And still not clear on how the fuck you know my name? Did Bro call ahead? Didn’t think he’d be that prepared.”

Dirk knew of Ambrose just as vaguely as Dave. He had some memories of his oldest brother, at least enough to remember the shades that matched his own, as well as a little brother with eyes like Derrik’s. Derrik didn’t bring them up often, only ranting about Ambrose or worrying about Dave when he was drunk, which wasn’t often.

The irritated scoff from Derrik caught his attention as he pulled Dave inside. “No. He never bothers to tell anyone anything, even though I know he’s smart enough to know he should. Honestly.” He sighs. “Well, long story short, I know Ambrose because he’s my older brother. Only by a year, not that the dickhead ever stopped holding that over my head.”

Dave seemed as confused as Dirk was, so at least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know exactly what was going on. He looked at the plastic bag still in his hand and frowned. “Wait… are you Derrik?”

Derrik nodded, his brow creasing as he looked at the bag that had his name written in half faded marker. He carefully pulled the papers out as Dirk closed the door, the entrance of their home already covered in water. “These…”

He held up a piece of notebook paper, his eyes narrowing before he crumpled the note and threw it angrily on the counter. “God damnit, Ambrose!”

Dirk thought he saw Dave flinch, but he couldn’t see any change in the kids expression, so he couldn’t be sure. “What is it?”

“Guardianship papers,” Derrik said, his voice dropping from angry to almost careful as he looked at Dave. “Did he say anything to you?”

Dave shook his head. “Just woke me up to get on a plane and dropped me off here. I think he might have mentioned your name, but…you said you were brothers?”

“Yeah. I guess he didn’t tell you that you had two other brothers?”

Dirk watched as Dave’s shoulders hunched a little, “Nope, but don’t worry about me not believing you. You two look cool enough to be Striders.”

Derrik grinned. “Damn straight. I’ll explain more in a bit, but you’ve gotta be freezing. You can put your stuff in the room at the end of the hall. It’s my office, but it’s got a futon. Bathrooms on the right. Feel free to take a shower, Dirk and I will be in here.”

Dave nodded, an almost imperceptible movement of his head, his hand tightening on his bag as he walked down the hall in a stride too casual to be genuine. As soon as he was gone, Derrik picked up the papers. “That bastard,” he growled.

“What’d the note say?” Dirk asked.

“’The kid needs a place to crash.’” He glared at the papers. “The asshole took care of everything apparently, but I’m gonna double check the paperwork. As far as it says, he’s filed for me to be Dave’s legal guardian, I just have to file these papers. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t know about us but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why now? We haven’t heard a single fucking thing in eleven years, so why all of a sudden? It’s just like when he fucking left!”

The elder Strider suddenly slumped onto the counter, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “So I guess taking care of this is my new plan for the day. And tracking down Ambrose so I can kick his ass.”

Dirk leaned against the counter, watching Derrick shuffle through the paperwork for a moment before grabbing a dish towel and starting to clean up the water that soaked the entryway. There was no sound aside from paper for a while, until Dave’s voice rang almost hesitantly.

“Yo, all my shit got soaked to hell, so…”

Standing and tossing the towel onto the counter, Dirk turned to walk to his room. “I’ve got some stuff you can borrow for now. Might be a little big, but at least it’s dry-“ he cut off, horror settling deep in his gut as he looked at Dave.

The other was standing awkwardly in the bathroom door, still in his jeans with his shirt hanging off of his arms and his chest…Dirk couldn’t see the scars clearly but it looked like someone had tried to dissect him. Most of them were faded, though he could see some still had the pinkness of being recent. A few small ones were littered over his skin, but most of them seemed to be slashes that looked almost like someone had genuinely been trying to kill him.

His voice died in his throat, every question he wanted to ask bubbling up and fading with fear of what the answers would be.

“Dirk, go get him some dry clothes,” he heard Derrik say, nodding mutely and hurrying to his room. He grabbed a shirt that was a few years old and some sweatpants, his hands shaking. No one Dave’s age should have scars like that, and the feeling in Dirk’s chest kept flipping from cold horror to burning anger.

By the time he stepped out of his room and handed the clothes to Dave, the feelings had mixed into almost numbness as he tried to sort out his thoughts. The most important thing right now was just to make sure Dave was safe.

“Thanks, dude,” Dave said, his expression flicking to a barely there grin before falling back to blank as he turned to the bag again and pulled out a couple of vials, handing them to Dirk. “Er, would you mind stickin these in the fridge for me? If you aren’t cool with that shit hanging out in there I can figure it out but-“

“What are they?”

Dave shrugged. “My insulin. I’ve got my tester thing in my bag still, but it’s bagged so it should be fine. And I’m chill handling the whole thing on my own by now, so it’s not a big deal.” He nodded towards Derrik. “But I mean if you wanna know it should all be there somewhere. I’m pretty sure at least.”

Dirk nodded. “I’ll put these up for you. If you need anything else, just holler.”

There was one last expressionless nod before the door closed and Dirk stepped back towards Derrik. He could see his brother’s knuckles whitening, rage flaring in his eyes. “He wouldn’t answer me when I tried to ask about-“ he took a shaky breath and fixed Dirk when a tense look. “But when I find Ambrose I’m gonna fucking kill him.”


End file.
